by Susan Lobb Porter | Life |
Don’t know about you but some nights I’ve just got to veg. Crash on the sofa with a couple of dogs. Watch TV. Eat M&Ms, the ones with almonds because nuts are healthy.
And if you happened to have read the post I wrote around the end of last year, I really meant what I said about cleaning up my act. Watching what I eat. I meant it at the time, that is. Really. But now, two weeks into the new year I’m thinking that’s sooo 2011.
And I’m a 2012 woman now. An M&M popping, dog lovin’, gen-u-wine twenty-twelve sistah girl.
So I’m sitting here, feet on the coffee table, dogs by my side, laptop on my lap, TV yakking in the background and on comes one of those commercials that tell a guy to pop a pill and grow a woody, just like that. No foreplay involved. And then the happy dude with the throbbing pants turns to the camera and says, “If you have an erection for more than four hours call your doctor.”
Hell, you won’t need to do that. The lady will HATE you by then and kill you herself. Trust me.
OK, so the first commercial was for erectile dysfunction, The next commercial, and I’m not making this up, was for one of those honker pre-cooked sausages. The ones that are close to a foot long, no matter who measures it. The smiling woman waves it in the air like a trophy and shows it to her daughter. Look what we’re having for dinner tonight, honey. Yumm…
And then she chops it up and puts it on a plate. Just like that. No foreplay involved.
Mwhahaha…
Wiping tears from my eyes. Wheezing. Wondering if Lorena B has a new job scheduling media buys for national TV.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Life |
The first time I walked through the doors of the Neighborhood Center of the Arts I was blown away. Totally blown away. Over the years I’ve watched other visitors have the same reaction. Because the art created there is raw. Authentic on a level you won’t find in an art school.
It is amazing.
I started working there shortly after that first visit. I teach mixed media three days each week. Been there nearly fifteen years.
I’m not there because of the money, trust me. This is a nonprofit that serves developmentally disabled adults, people who were either born with their genetic wires crossed or who suffered a life altering injury before their eighteenth birthday.
I’m there for them. Because I’ve learned to see beyond their disabilities. I’ve learned to see their abilities. I’ve learned to see them as people, like you and me.
Unfortunately, the rest of the world doesn’t see them that way. The state of California sees the most vulnerable among us as the most expendable. Our budget has been slashed over and over throughout the years.
We make due without raises. We scrounge for supplies. We’ve learned to make art out of damn near anything.
But there’s one client I haven’t been able to reach. I cannot tell you her name or show you her photograph due to confidentiality restrictions. But I do want to tell you about her as best I can without stepping over the privacy line.
She’s a young woman. Autistic. She spends her time in my class on the floor, half under a table. I put paper, paint and markers next to her on the floor. Somedays she’ll write on the paper, copying words from whatever reading material is handy. Some days she’ll paint. But none of this activity lasts longer than ten minutes. And that’s on a good day.
If I’m lucky. Some days she won’t do anything.
One day, in desperation, I pulled out my iPhone. I have it loaded with art apps because, well, why not? I’m an artist. I handed it to her and she immediately began exploring the apps. I was amazed at her intuitive grasp of the programs, some of which I haven’t even figured out yet.
The iPhone kept her busy for over an hour, until it was time to go. I was amazed. Totally. These are a couple of designs she made with an app called Type Drawing. She had to type the text, pick the colors and draw.
A few weeks later I brought in my iPad. Same reaction. It was as if someone had flipped on a switch. She lit up and immediately began exploring the possibilities. She wasn’t the woman hiding out from the world, she was a young woman interacting with something outside of herself.
It was an amazing transformation, one I’d dearly love to see continue. Because something like this can change a life.
But an iPad is completely out of our budget. I know, I’ve put in the request, spoken with the powers that be. So now I’m putting the seeds out into the universe. If any of you have a connection to Apple, or belong to a service organization looking for a project or want a tax write off or just have an iPad lying around that you’re not using…well, feel free to contact my boss, Amee M. ncadirector@nccn.net (530) 272-7287.
Because you never know where you’re going to find an angel.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Mr. Spouse, Porterosa |
Mr. Spouse builds things. If his attention wanders when I’m talking to him I know he’s calculating the price of lumber or how many sacks of cement he needs the next day. And no, this is not what he does for a living. This is what he does to relax.
Which is fine by me. Especially since his latest project is my new studio. Here are the photos from this weekend–because this is a weekend only project. As long as the La Nina keeps messing with our winter the building will continue. I expect the snow and rain will come eventually, it snowed well into May last year and even a few flurries in June–but if it can hold off just a couple more weeks until he can get it dried in…ah, bliss.
This is taken from where the door will be. The wall on the left faces north and will have no windows. There will be skylights. The wall straight ahead will have two large windows with a counter running the length of the wall. It faces east. The wall to the right will also have a counter. The windows will take up the entire wall. It faces south.
This is the view from the windows on the east wall. The two brown buildings are the hay shed and the barn, more of Mr. Spouse’s handiwork. As is the green building which is his workshop. Or as Missy B says, “Grandpa’s house”.
I’ll be able to look out at the horses while I work. I don’t know where they were when I took the photo, somewhere out there but not in sight of the camera.
This is the view to the south. Umm…I see a garden here someday. Maybe a patch of lavender, a level little patio with a small table and chairs. I will put that idea out into the universe and see what happens. The universe in this case being Mr. Spouse because his other vice is building stone walls. We have a lot of stone walls around here. Matter of fact, the studio will have a stone facade.
This is what you’ll see when you step out the door and look straight up. This is facing west.
So that’s how studio-to-be progressed this week. I worked in Studio Grande today but nothing is ready to show. Maybe tomorrow.
Now I’m going to settle into the comfy chair and read the first draft of my friend Mitzi’s novel. A nice way to spend a Sunday evening.
There will be dogs involved.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Life |
There was a strange man in my shower last night. I noticed him because of the hat, one of those newspaper boy’s caps from the 1930s. There was also a sweater vest involved.
Sweater vest? OMG…Rick Santorum? What was HE doing in my shower???
Before I could figure it out, Rick morphed into a monkey. A chimpanzee to be exact. Stuff happens when you squint… in life… and in the shower.
I’d seen the monkey before but it was the first time for the guy in the vest. A political figure at that. Go figure.
Usually I shower with Homer Simpson. He’s there a lot. Lurking in the glass block, depending on the time of day, the shadows. And there was a period of time when Jerry Garcia was a regular. It was the hair. And the beard. He was on the floor right by the door. My husband swore it was Jesus. We argued about this for days. Jesus! Jerry! When he began began talking up e-bay I figured I had no choice. Clean the shower or lose a couple of tiles.
So I emptied a bottle of Mildew! Soap! Scum! remover and washed our lord and savior down the drain. Pffffft…Just. Like. That. No thunderbolts. No smites. No heavenly retribution. Guess it wasn’t Jesus after all.
And now the politicians are showing up. Okay, so only one. But they’ll multiply, seemingly overnight.
And that’s reason enough to scrub down the shower.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Beloved Beasties, Dogs, Life |
Two dogs by my side
dozing on this winter night
no long post tonight.
***
Hairy beasts snuggle
up against the macBook pro
no writing in sight.
***
Fluffy little poofs
of fur hide dogs with big hearts
can’t tell head from butt.
***
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Life |
Comfy chair. Comfy sweats. Dog crowding out the laptop. Sitting here watching mindless TV. American Pickers. Pawn Stars. And playing on-line Solitaire.
Being a picker looks like fun. Traveling back roads, checking out barns and attics and sagging front porches. Climbing over piles of crap to find the perfect treasure. But knowing me I wouldn’t be looking for resale value, I’d be looking for mixed media parts. Things I could paint on, turn into art.
Doll parts. Metal things. Wooden stuff. Old photographs.
Sigh…look around your own house, Susan.
It’s my last night of vacation. Tomorrow it’s back to work. Laundry’s done. Lunch packed. Got to get back into the early to bed early to rise mentality. Not that I’ve ever been early to bed but it’s something to aim for.
I’m looking forward to seeing my students again. Looking forward to making art with them. Can’t wait to put some music on and dance around the classroom. We’re big on world music in my class. Afro. Latin. Cuban. And classic rock ‘n roll. Little Richard.
And come Friday I’m back in the studio. YAY!!!
But now I’m off to bed.
